Hunter pinned me with an unreadable look. “I’m just trying to get a feel for what might’ve happened.”
He was lying. He still had the same tell. His left eye opened wider than his right when he was hiding something back then. The same phenomenon was on display today.
“I think we should call Grandpa out here,” I said to David, fixing him with a pointed look. “This is his restaurant. Has anyone bothered to tell him what’s going on?”
“It’s after lunch,” Brad reminded me through the door. “He’s taking his post-lunch ... um ... constitutional.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant. “I don’t understand. Did he leave?”
David let loose a low chuckle and shook his head. “He didn’t leave. He’s just ... taking his afternoon ... um ... bathroom break.”
My cheeks burned under the sudden realization of what he was saying. “Oh, I ... .”
“It’s a regular occurrence,” Brad explained. “It usually takes him an hour.”
An hour? That couldn’t be healthy. “Maybe he should try eating something other than chili and onions for lunch,” I groused. Something occurred to me. “Wait, he’s not doing that in the guest restroom, is he?”
“No,” Brad replied, shaking his head. “He wouldn’t do that to the customers.”
“So, where ... ?” A horrible thought filled my head.
“Sometimes he goes home,” David offered, his lips curving into a wide smile. “But his truck is still here, so I’m sure he felt the situation was more ... dire.”
“That means he’s in my apartment,” I muttered, closing my eyes and shaking my head. When I opened them again, I found Hunter watching me with overt amusement. He was clearly enjoying himself. “It’s not funny.”
“I didn’t say it was. I was just ... thinking.” He turned his attention back to the body. “What’s the deal with Roy and your grandfather? I always thought they were friends.”
“Something happened about two years ago,” David replied. “They got in a fight while golfing or something. That’s the story I heard.”
“I thought it was over a poker game,” Brad countered. “He tried to cheat Dad or something. At least that’s the story that was making the rounds a few weeks after.”
“But they definitely weren’t friends any longer?” Hunter snapped on a pair of rubber gloves before lifting the collar of Roy’s shirt and getting a better look at the chaos underneath.
“Roy still came in the restaurant every day,” Brad offered. “He was part of that morning coffee crew that liked to drink and gossip together.”
“Your grandfather is the center of that crew.” Hunter said it more as a statement than a question. “That’s the way it was when I visited during high school.”
His words struck a chord. “You haven’t come here since we were teenagers?”
Hunter’s gaze slowly tracked back to me. “I’ve been in the restaurant. I just don’t visit very often.”
I wanted to ask why, but that seemed invasive ... and completely beside the point given that we were standing over a dead body. Still, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings to know that he was avoiding the place because memories of our great high school love affair were too painful for him. What? It’s not like I want anything bad to happen to him or anything. I just want to believe he had been pining for me for ten years. That doesn’t seem like too much to ask for.
“Go back to Roy,” Hunter ordered. “When was the last time you saw him with your grandfather? Was he in the restaurant this morning?”
“I ... don’t know.” Brad slid his eyes to me. “Did you see him?”
I shook my head. In truth, the morning rush had been so busy that I could barely focus on myself, let alone the other people in the restaurant. Getting used to the schedule was going to take some time. “I didn’t really look. I was busy dealing with other stuff.”
“Yes, like the fact that you’re suddenly the world’s slowest waitress,” Brad drawled. “Do you think that’s because you became soft while you were away? I mean ... being an author is easier than being a waitress, right?”
I pretended not to hear the question. “Isn’t Roy the guy Grandpa used to call an Axehole?”
David snickered at the question. “Yeah. We all picked that up because it was a way to swear without getting in trouble. That was when they were supposedly friends. The relationship has always been a bit tempestuous.”
“I’ll have to talk to your grandfather,” Hunter noted, his gaze on David rather than me. “He’ll have to answer questions, whether he likes it or not. Roy was obviously killed.”
“How was he killed?” I asked. “I see the blood. It’s mixed with the water from the refrigerator system. He couldn’t have been out here all that long. People use the back door when they’re coming in before the morning shift. Someone would’ve seen him.”
“Only if they came through this door,” David countered. “Most people go in through the other door because it’s more convenient. I think most of the staff ignores this door for the most part.”
“So it’s possible he’s been out here for hours?” The notion didn’t sit well with me. “That doesn’t seem right.”
“Right or not, it’s what we’re dealing with,” Hunter replied, retrieving his phone from his back pocket. “All I can say with any degree of certainty is that Roy was stabbed and I think it was sometime during the night. I have to get the medical examiner out here.”
“So ... what should we do?” Brad asked. “I still need those pickles.”
I wanted to choke him with the pickles but I managed to hold it together — just barely.
“Go about your day,” Hunter replied. “You’ll have to avoid this area, but that’s it. I’m not sure how long we’ll be out here, but it’ll be a couple of hours at least.”
That was not what I wanted to hear. “Are you going to want to question anyone?”
Hunter nodded as his eyes briefly connected with mine before he turned back to Brad. “I’ll try not to disrupt your day too much, but I’ll need ten minutes with each employee.”
“We’ll figure it out.” Brad flashed a smile. “The Republicans are tougher on crime. Did you know that?”
Hunter nodded, unruffled. If he found my uncle’s response weird, he didn’t show it. “That’s great. I’ll start with Stormy.”
Well, awesome.
3
Three
Hunter had me sit at the picnic table behind the restaurant. He waited to join me until the medical examiner arrived and had taken control of the body.
“Test these, too,” Hunter instructed, handing over the bag that contained my shoes. “One of the waitresses was leaving the restaurant and stepped in the blood.”
The medical examiner nodded and absently took the bag. He was already focused on the body, and it seemed Hunter’s presence was an annoyance to him.